


Listening

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/F, Hand Jobs, Inline with canon, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quiet Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:50:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Gray’s hand hits Loke’s mouth with more speed than gentleness, cutting off the sound of the other boy’s voice and muffling his hiss of protest at the action. There’s some incoherent mumbling, the redhead’s fingers closing tight on his arm to push his hand away -- and there’s a burble of a laugh not ten feet away, and Loke goes just as still and silent as Gray." Gray and Loke get caught in a compromising position, and Lucy and Cana follow their example.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listening

Gray hears the girls first.

It’s not that he has much of an advantage over Loke, at least not inherently. All else being equal they would probably hear the approaching footsteps at the same time, and somewhat more in advance than a few seconds. But all else  _isn’t_  equal; Gray’s got Loke’s shoulder under his lips, and one hand pushing up at the other boy’s shirt, so Loke is distracted, and with the whimpering sounds the redhead is making Gray doesn’t hear the voices until they’re almost on top of them.

Gray’s pulling away before he’s even identified the speakers, before he’s made it any farther than  _don’t get caught_. Loke’s breath catches at the loss of contact, and when Gray goes still over him he starts to sit up, pushing himself up on his elbows from where he was lying across the ground.

“Why are you --”

Gray’s hand hits Loke’s mouth with more speed than gentleness, cutting off the sound of the other boy’s voice and muffling his hiss of protest at the action. There’s some incoherent mumbling, the redhead’s fingers closing tight on his arm to push his hand away -- and there’s a burble of a laugh not ten feet away, and Loke goes just as still and silent as Gray.

“Don’t you think it’s about time for a break?” That’s unmistakably Cana’s low purr, even though Gray can’t see anything through the greenery between them. And the laugh was familiar too, he knows that sound, which means it must be --

“If you say so.” Of course it would be Lucy -- she and Cana are partners, after all -- but Gray still jerks his head to stare at Loke. He hasn’t moved his hand, and Loke hasn’t let his wrist go, but neither of them are moving anymore; Gray’s not sure he’s  _breathing_  for fear of being heard, and from how wide his eyes are Loke has forgotten to blink.

There’s the shift of lips against his palm, words without even the attempt at sound, and Gray pulls his hand away without looking away from Loke’s expression. He can’t make out the specifics of the words the redhead is shaping, but the  _oh shit_  expression in the other boy’s eyes is perfectly clear without coherent words.

Gray doesn’t have a solution to offer. He can hear the sounds of the girls moving on the other side of the leaves, and what provides a solid barrier to line-of-sight is no cover at all for sound. Some rational part of him is desperately searching for a solution, suggesting that they come out and just admit they were here -- but what are they going to say they were  _doing_ , after all, and besides Loke’s still flushed and breathless and Gray suspects he doesn’t look much better. Worse, from the way Cana sighs and the clink of metal against itself, the other two have no intention of leaving anytime soon, which leaves Gray and Loke trapped in close enough quarters to be uncomfortable, if they’re not doing anything but waiting for the girls to leave.

_Fuck_ , Gray mouths, and Loke grimaces in agreement. It’s easy enough for Gray to slide his hand free from under Loke’s shirt but that’s the best he can do; there’s not enough space for them to untangle their legs, no way to shift so Gray’s not sprawled on top of Loke, and what was charmingly close quarters before is nothing but awkward when Gray can’t actually  _do_  anything about how hard he is.

Loke grins first. Gray is still caught in the embarrassed panic of the moment when the redhead’s face creases into his sun-bright smile, so wide for a breath Gray isn’t sure he won’t have to clap his hand back over Loke’s mouth to stifle an audible laugh. The redhead doesn’t, although he is still clearly considering it when his hand comes up and closes on Gray’s shoulder to pull him down. The position itself is more suggestive than the touch implies -- Gray’s knees are fitting in around Loke’s until he’s straddling the redhead’s thigh, and if Gray’s still hard he can feel Loke is too when he capitulates and relaxes to press his face in against the other boy’s shoulder. But Loke doesn’t let him go, lets his fingers slide sideways to settle in against the back of Gray’s neck, and even with his skin still burning with want that contact is soothing enough that Gray can shut his eyes, and sigh himself into resignation to waiting. Maybe it won’t be all that bad, after all.

This time it’s Loke who catches on first.

Gray’s not really paying any attention to the sound of conversation from the other pair. It seems impolite to listen to what the girls are saying, after all, and besides he’s more caught up in appreciating the warmth of Loke’s body while simultaneously getting his mind to shift gears to something more platonic than where it wants to go. When the coherent words stop he doesn’t notice beyond being somewhat relieved that he won’t overhear something he shouldn’t, and he’s too busy steadying his own breathing to notice when Cana’s catches too fast. So his first hint is that the idle shift of Loke’s fingers against the back of his neck stills and he can feel tension run all through the body underneath him.

He pushes away by an inch. Loke’s not looking at him; his head is tipped, staring at the leaves hiding them from view as if he can look straight through them, and his mouth has dropped open like he can’t remember how to close it. He looks shocked, eyes wide and disbelieving; Gray can feel his forehead crease in confusion, reaches out to touch Loke’s cheek and get his attention for a silent question.

It’s at that point that there’s a  _moan_  from the other side of the cover, and it’s Gray’s turn to forget how to blink. He doesn’t look up -- his gaze just drops out of focus on Loke’s shoulder as all his attention focuses on the  _sounds_  coming from the other side of the leaves, reforms all his assumptions about what the girls are doing. It occurs to him that he probably shouldn’t be able to  _hear_  the others’ breathing from the distance they are at, that Cana is purring incoherent vocalization on too many of her breaths, that there’s really no other sound that damp catch could be but  _kissing_.

_Oh shit_. Gray doesn’t realize he’s shaped the words until Loke looks back up at him, shakes his head furiously and brings a finger to his lips to shush him. Gray shuts his mouth in instant obedience but now he’s looking at Loke, he can’t make himself look away. He can see the color of Loke’s eyes flicker darker when Lucy whines faintly, can see the sharp inhale the other boy takes at the low laugh from Cana. Gray’s starting to blush, himself, but if there wasn’t a way out before there  _really_  isn’t now, they can’t just topple out of the cover and announce they’ve been here this whole time.

“Gray.”

Gray wouldn’t be able to catch the sound of his name if he weren’t staring at Loke’s face, if he didn’t see the redhead’s throat work around the sound of his name. Loke is flushed too, his cheeks going pink like he’s developing a sunburn, and for a moment Gray has the wild hope that the other boy has some suggested solution to their situation.

Then Loke rocks up against his hip, and Gray realizes that the solution Loke has is nothing like the one he was hoping for.

“No way,” Gray mouths, shaking his head as hard as he can manage. “No  _way_ , Loke.”

Loke raises his eyebrows in disbelief, the motion punctuated perfectly by another moan from what sounds like Cana this time. He slides his hand down between them, angles his wrist in between his legs and Gray’s, and Gray knows he should stop him but he can’t move quickly enough, or maybe he just can’t make up his mind to stop before Loke’s fingers curl and press in against him through his clothes.

He thought he was in the process of cooling down, but Loke’s barely touching him before Gray’s skin is flaring hot and responsive, as if the delay from their initial interlude only wound him tighter with anticipation. His mouth drops open on a groan he only just holds back, his head tips forward as his vision flickers out of importance, and Loke pushes harder, grinds his palm in against Gray without even bothering to unfasten his jeans.

“Come on,” Loke breathes, the words soft but still so clearly audible they send a shiver of panic down Gray’s spine. “It’ll be fine, they’re doing the same thing.”

“Shut  _up_ ,” Gray hisses, but it comes out louder than he intends, loud enough that they both stop moving, glance up like they’ll have any visible warning if the girls come forward. But either it was too soft to be heard, or Cana drowned him out with the humming laughter as she does...whatever it is she is doing to make Lucy whimper like that. Gray starts to flush again, self-conscious with how hot his skin is going, but Loke doesn’t seem to have any compunctions at all. The redhead echoes Lucy’s whine, if more softly, rocks up hard so he grinds himself against Gray’s leg and pins his hand in hard against the other boy.

“It’s fine,” Loke repeats, if more softly than the first time. “It’s fine, come on Gray, do you want me to  _stop_?”

Gray flinches at the idea, shoves in instinctively against the pressure of Loke’s fingers, and the other boy grins and lets his hand slide off Gray’s neck.

“Or I’ll take care of myself,” he teases, or threatens, Gray’s not sure. The intention doesn’t matter anyway; in either case he seems entirely serious, has worked his other hand down between them before Gray has even processed his options.

He offers a hissed rejection, grabs at Loke’s elbow to pull his hand free, but the redhead doesn’t even slow down, just rocks up against Gray again and blinks his gaze into further shadows that have nothing to do with the dappled cover of the leaves. Gray hesitates for another moment, a heartbeat of rationality like a breath of air before diving underwater; then Lucy moans again, a throaty almost-wail, and Loke’s eyelashes flutter around an unvoiced echo, and Gray’s resistance goes with the last of the cool in his blood.

It’s still awkward. The angle is wrong, it’s hard for Gray to get his balance and still leave enough room to fit his hand down between them, and Loke’s reaching fingers are doing nothing at all to help his concentration. But Loke’s jeans are open already, at least, that helps a little, and after a minute the other boy brings his other hand around so he can get Gray’s clothes half-off to grant himself better access and both of them somewhat more flexibility. Gray doesn’t care much; he’s given in to the want, the specifics are no longer particularly important as long as he can chase down the sparking electricity running under his skin. He’s not thinking about what Lucy and Cana are doing -- he’s not thinking about much of anything, actually -- but Loke’s mouth is open on that unvoiced moan, his eyes are out-of-focus like he’s watching something more interesting than the clear blue of the sky overhead, and Gray can see his whole face shudder warm and responsive every time there’s a particularly loud noise from the other pair. Usually Gray would have his mouth against the other boy’s collarbone, suck a bruise in against the pale skin or just drag his teeth in gentle friction over the skin, but this time he doesn’t lean down for the sake of watching the ripples of voyeuristic pleasure shimmer over Loke’s features. There’s a clear distinction in the other boy’s reactions. Gray can see it, watches the tremble of his lip and the shake of repressed sound in his throat when Gray gets his fingers properly around his length and strokes up over him, but the flutter of his eyes is separate, feeding back to the throaty murmurs from the other two like he’s borrowing the reaction from the others’ bodies. Gray can hear the hiccup of air in Loke’s throat as he catches back a more vocal response, can feel his own breath sticking in his chest as one of Loke’s hands slides over him while the other drags idle and unthought over the shivering tension in his stomach. Gray has to bite his lip to keep his response contained, thinks for a wild moment that he hasn’t succeeded before he realizes the groan he hears is Cana’s and not his.

Loke is starting to shake, Gray can feel the rhythm of his strokes going off-pattern and jerky, but that’s far from his biggest concern. He’s listening to the redhead’s breathing, trying to catch the sound of Loke’s gasps over the sound of the girls to make sure he  _can’t_ , and it’s starting to draw closer to audible than he likes. Loke’s panting, his eyes are entirely shut now, and after one more attempt at a shaky stroke he lets Gray go entirely to close his fingers at the other boy’s hips, like he’s trying to pull Gray down closer or lift himself up higher. His head tips back, his features draw tight in focus, and Gray just catches the sound of his inhale as he sucks in a deep lungful of air.

One hand is caught under him, supporting his weight over the other boy, and the other is occupied in jerking fast over Loke’s length, there’s no way for Gray to get his fingers up to catch the sound he can see trembling in the other boy’s throat. But it’s easy to lean forward, drop his weight down over Loke’s chest, and Gray gets his mouth in against Loke’s lips just before the moan slips into audibility against his tongue. His mouth muffles the sound, keeps Loke relatively quiet even as he shudders and comes over Gray’s fingers; Gray stays still, catches the other boy’s groan against his lips and his shivering motion against his body until Loke’s breathing has steadied and he’s relaxed back against the ground.

When Gray pulls back Loke lets his hips go, is replacing his hold before he’s even mouthed  _thank you_  up at the other boy. Gray flashes a grin of response before he closes his lips around his own vocal reaction, tips his head down and shuts his eyes so he can focus on breathing as silently as he can manage against the pull of Loke’s fingers over him. The heat comes back almost as quickly as it did the first time, washing out into Gray’s blood until he feels like he’s melting, until the tension in the arm supporting him over Loke feels like it belongs to someone else, until he can’t remember  _why_  he needs to breathe quietly, only that he does.

“Gray,” Loke hisses, and Gray opens his eyes, forces his gaze into focus on the redhead’s face. Loke’s cheeks are still flushed warm and pink, his lips are still parted around his breathing, but he’s starting to smile, soft and easy and amused, and when he sees Gray focused on him his smile slips wider.

“Stay quiet,” Loke says, and Gray can feel a bubble of laughter in his throat, forms his mouth around the feel of the amusement if not the sound.

_I know_ , he mouths, and Loke twists his wrist and presses in with his thumb, and Gray shuts his eyes and lets the heat of pleasure drown out the last of his self-awareness.

The whole space is quiet when Gray pays attention to his hearing again. He can just make out the panting sound of Cana or Lucy breathing, he can’t tell which, and Loke’s breathing hard but silently, utterly quiet even when he slides his hand free and reaches out to wipe his hand mostly clean against the grass. It’s harder to get their clothes back in place; after a few minutes of one-handed fumbling Loke pushes Gray’s hand away and slides the other boy’s jeans up himself with the advantage of both his hands. By the time the girls’ conversation starts back up everything is ostensibly back in place, both of them only a little sticky and sweaty for their trouble. Gray collapses back down against Loke, the position much more comfortable now that his skin isn’t burning with want, and the other boy’s arm comes up around him so Loke’s fingers can fit into the small of his back.

“That was fun,” Loke murmurs against Gray’s hair, softly enough the words are nearly lost to the louder feminine voices.

“It was not,” Gray mumbles right back, but he doesn’t sound convincing even to himself, and when Loke chuckles faintly against his ear he starts to smile into the other boy’s shoulder.


End file.
